


Machines Don't Feel Pain

by ListeningBoy



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Mild Gore, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Torture, android gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 14:43:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16120643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ListeningBoy/pseuds/ListeningBoy
Summary: The RK series was built to be resistant to deviancy, yet the RK800 'Connor' had been compromised. Something else must be broken within its programming that tricked it into believing it had emotions, and RK900 is determined to fix it - even if that means breaking it more.





	Machines Don't Feel Pain

Connor had been here for 3 days, 23 hours, 6 minutes and 45, 46, 47 seconds, according to his internal clock. Not that it was at all reliable anymore. The numbers weren’t consistent with what he’d experienced, they jumped seemingly at random, going backwards several times and freezing in place at others. He’d started a timer as soon as he noticed his faulty time, which told him he’d spent 14 hours and 23 minutes ‘awake’, though he couldn’t run anything to track how long he spent deactivated. Technically, the timer could be tampered with as well, but he checked and corrected it whenever he was activated, so it wouldn’t have done any good for his captor to do so.

Captor. He was a captive. It wasn’t something he’d ever thought would happen, simply because it wasn’t supposed to be possible when he was created. At worst he would upload his memory to CyberLife and it would be downloaded into a new RK800 body, and whoever had taken the old one would be charged with theft if caught. Possibly, they would be caught by him, tracking down his own body based on his memories of the events. Of course since the revolution he was cut off from CyberLife, and thus his replacement bodies, but he’d never thought about it to the point of realising what it really meant for him. He had thought he would just have to avoid being destroyed, not difficult when you were an android, even most typically lethal injuries could be and now were being repaired by the re-worked CyberLife stores. 

That’s what got him in this situation, that confidence. He was strong, not only could he fight but he was programmed to do so, to be better at it than humans and to easily match any existing androids, even deviants who might have picked up some ability from their environment. Being the strongest and most capable android to date meant that he had no reason to be prepared for someone that could be stronger than him, that would know all his tricks and then some. Not having to account for the possibility of a real fight had left him vulnerable, which had made taking him down and deactivating him a relatively simple task for his attacker. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes in the future, would work to extend his abilities, if he was ever able to get away that was. There had been no opportunities for escape so far.

A single room had been his prison for however many days he’d been here, a large workshop, one that was formerly part of CyberLife’s labs, based on his observations on the design. Though it would have been obvious by the fact that he’d been in the abandoned CyberLife building at the time of his capture it was good to be certain, would help him when he needed to find his way out. Occasionally he was moved around the room to various pieces of equipment, but by far the most common place he found himself when awake, and where he was now, was the large metal table in the middle of the room, some sort of ‘operating table’ that would have been used on damaged or perhaps in-development androids. At each corner was a firm metal cuff that locked his arms and legs, and another was clamped around his middle, keeping him well restrained.

The worst part of the set up he was put in, and the part he tried to avoid thinking about unless necessary, was the stands and hooks surrounding his body. From them hung parts of his innards, his wires and thirium tubes, pulled from the open panels of his chest and stomach, stretched to their limits or lengthened with added pieces, and sometimes he would find certain non-vital biocomponents taken out as well, all of it dripping in leaked thirium. A pump located near his feet kept his levels of the liquid high, but that only increased the amount of it that could leave his body and cover the surrounding area, though how much was wasted he couldn’t be certain because it was certainly cleaned when he was shut down.

The timer in the corner of Connor’s vision ticked on, now informing him that it had been 14 hours and 36 minutes that he’d spent awake, meaning that he’d been left alone for the longest time he’d ever experienced while in this place, when he awoke alone at all that is. He was just starting to wonder if perhaps this was some sort of test, to be left awake and immobile by himself, his reactions monitored as they surely were at all times, when he heard from the space above his head the click of a locking mechanism and the cool slide of an automatic door. He relaxed despite the nature of those sounds, knowing at least that he wouldn’t be left to experience something entirely new, even if what was becoming familiar was far from pleasant.

Footsteps followed the closing of the door, approaching in direct line to rest just above him, and a figure he’d become well acquainted with leaned over him. Connor’s eyes focused sharply on the features of the android in his vision, scanning it automatically though he knew what he would find. His model’s successor,  _RK900_ , a near carbon copy physically, though its face had been made slightly rougher compared to his softer, approachable features. Its mouth was pulled into an unnatural smile, the expression not reflecting in its eyes, and Connor was beginning to understand why Hank had described his early attempts at mimicking humans as ‘uncomfortable’.

Connor watched its eyes move down his body, scanning him in turn, following the line of every exposed element of its predecessor. Only when it had taken in every part of him did it return its gaze to his eyes, mouth twitching just slightly to see a sour scowl on his face, and finally speak, in the voice that registered as undoubtedly  _his_  but was somehow different, empty of something that made it so distinguishable to and android’s perceptive audio sensors.

“Comfortable, RK800?”

**Author's Note:**

> Where you can find me, I'd love to talk on any of these platforms  
> Main Tumblr: http://listeningboy.tumblr.com  
> DBH Tumblr: http://gavinisqueerdbh.tumblr.com  
> PillowFort: https://www.pillowfort.io/ListeningBoy
> 
> Original Works: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LOTW


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